


How To Train Your (Angry) Sensei

by SukiKyoshi



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, others get mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-21 02:15:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14906475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SukiKyoshi/pseuds/SukiKyoshi
Summary: This is also called "towel" for reasons I can't explain in my Drive folder.***“Quiet Iruka is about the same as waking a demon,” Genma offered, leaning back in his chair. The trademark senbon on his lip wiggled around as he contemplated the last few seconds of events and the attitude Iruka had brought in with him. Seeing Iruka angry wasn’t unusual, but seeing Kakashi hide like that was. Things would need to be assessed, bets redrawn.





	1. Wet.

Marching through muddy streets during the peak of an already terrible storm Iruka recounted everything that had already gone wrong or could still go wrong with the day. After a long night of little sleep, he was pushed from bed and into the cold world before the sun was even up. Students and teachers alike had all pushed buttons, so many buttons. Minutes had turned into agonizing hours and it seemed like two whole days had passed before the students were released and he had to go somewhere else to deal with a whole new slew of people who couldn’t follow rules. Iruka’s satchel was soaked from covering his head, his clothes barely any better. Dashing from overhang to overhang had helped but Iruka could feel the mud in his sandals. None of this was fun, none of it was remotely  _ okay _ , so he took his time and bathed in his warm rage while he dodged waterfalls from gutters and danced around people to barely make it in on time.

It didn’t get better. Time dragged on, Iruka’s sandals eventually dried out and he could wipe the mud off them. His clothes were still damp and his stomach growled and he hated everyone even before they could open their mouths to say anything.

Iruka’s annoyance radiated outwards as the night wore on, filling up the mission desk room with palpable fury, dividing the group of four into two: Iruka took up space on the farthest side from the main door, commandeering more than his share of the desktop space. The other three working with him were pushed together to his left; Kotetsu hanging onto the edge of the table that he split with Iruka, chair pushed so far over that he was nearly seated instead in Izumo’s lap. Izumo counted Kotetsu’s body as protection from Iruka, considering himself lucky enough to be barricaded between his partner and Genma, who kept a wide eye on Iruka’s movements while taking and stamping reports. Three pairs of eyes watched the young volcano while they worked.

Those that came in to drop off their reports noticed the tension right away, stamping off mud from their boots before Iruka had a chance to scold them for their lack of manners. Sensory types gasped and curled away from the sharp spikes in Iruka’s normally calm chakra and picked to wait in line for someone else to take their report. The elite few who dared brave Iruka’s line, sensors or not, were the ones that either had brain damage, always met Iruka’s strict standards and he never had to unleash his wrath on them, or were downright oblivious and deserved the obsentities that were hurled their way for forgetting to fill something in or, heaven’s above, turned in a wet, muddy report. 

During a momentary lull all four working took a moment to enjoy the shared silence together. Iruka hadn’t heard his own breathing all day, his head had been assaulted with the cacophonous orchestra that was teaching children indoors on a rainy day. Various moments had had him stopping fights between troublesome boys, stopping fights between lovestruck  _ girls _ squabbling over boys, intercepting notes containing instructions on how to best incapacitate their sensei, sharp edged  _ paper _ shuriken (that was new) and a handful of other issues, all of which tested his patience.    
  
All in all, he had only raised his voice to it’s loudest decibel five times, handed out ten after-school detentions, sent two to the vice-principal’s office, one to the nurse, and gotten to threaten all of them with failing the academy. 

The best part, as his stomach loudly reminded him as he sat at the desk, was that he had forgotten his lunch at home when he had rushed out the door with only a handful of minutes to get from his apartment to the school. And, with only a block left to run, Iruka’s umbrella rebelled as a gust of ice cold wind ripped the contraption from his fingers, forcing Iruka to hold his satchel over his head for the remainder of his mad dash inside. That was _clearly_ the worst way to start his day, yet, no, Iruka realized that the worst way had been when he was woken up from a wonderful dream, surrounded by golden rays of warmth, an impossibly cozy cocoon of sheets and arms and legs, only to be thrown out and into the cold world of reality, hungry.   
  
But waking up, though... a small smile tore at the corner’s of Iruka’s mouth. He scrubbed his hands over his face to hide any telling of his thoughts, mind shuffling through this thoughts racing through his head, trying and failing to stamp down any that. _There was no time to day dream, Iruka_! he chided himself, laying his head down with a _thunk_ from the metal of his hitai-aite hitting the worn wooden top. Iruka folded his arms over the back of his neck, caging his head in darkness and allowed himself a secretive grin where no one could see it. 

Memories filtered in through the cracks, touching his face in the same spots that scarred and calloused fingers had stroked the night before. A ghost caressed his cheek, ran a nail up his jaw line to tease him. The feel of teeth nipping at his earlobe, tugging,  _ whispering _ so many wonderful nonsensical noises that pulled at his insides. Slowly the buzz of the mission room faded until Iruka could only hear his heart beating in real time, feel the moisture of his own breath bouncing off the table pressed under his nose. His memory of another’s warm pant on his neck stirred up a warmth curling deep in his chest, working it’s way out through his veins.

_ Iruka _ , he felt his name whispered against his ear again as he remembered dropping his head back against the pillow when he had heard it said in that sultry, heavy, drunk with lust way while a warm and familiar weight settled over his body, pressing him down in a filthy manner. Hands dragged his wrists to the top of the bed, pinning his arms down above them both. A knee slotted between his thighs, encouraging Iruka to grind down against it, the strain of his growing erection visible against the soft sleep pants he had still been wearing.

_ Iruka, _ he heard again, just a little louder this time, pulling a sharp gasp from behind clenched teeth. Arching towards the other above him, Iruka squirmed under restraint, eager to get more than just his name whispered in this dark room. One of the other’s hands, his right? No,  _ left _ , had wrapped around his neck, tightening just enough to slow the rush to his head, making Iruka gasp and hum with delight, stilling in his struggles with a welcomed calmness. 

Wanting uncoiled inside him, spiking Iruka’s blood with arousal and he fidgeting a bit in his seat, this was not the place or time for these memories, this wasn’t--- “ _ Iruka? _ ” he heard it again, a little louder, colder, not full of the same heady warmth as the voice in his ear had been. Confusion interrupted his reverie, pulling the sound of his name back in for analysis and waking Iruka back up from his momentary bliss, dragging him out of his memories with tooth and nail to the cold present.

“Iruka?” 

“What!” Iruka snapped, raising his left elbow up and turning his head just enough to see out from under it, head still pressed to the table to stare at the offender. Kotetsu gulped, he could only see a portion of Iruka’s face, but from what he could see chilled him to the bone. Kotetsu turned to Izumo, shaking his head, he wasn’t opening his mouth to ask anything else.

“You, uh, are you okay?” Izumo cautiously asked, noticing what the other had seen as well and choosing to hide behind the black mass of hair, their shield against Iruka’s wrath. 

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” Iruka snapped, teeth clashing together while giving them a dark stare, brown eyes hard and uninviting. A choice of words danced on the tip of his tongue, ready to harangue them again for the umpteenth time tonight when the sudden appearance of another in the room made him change course. Relief flooded the faces of the other desk workers when they saw him redirecting his ire towards the newest arrival, a silver-haired scarecrow that despite all the nastiness outside stood there dry and clean as a summer’s day. 

Iruka was wet.

Kakashi was dry.

That alone refueled his fire.

“I swear, if you’re bringing me  _ another  _ report covered in mud, I’m going to---” Iruka hissed, sitting up straight, bristling, getting ready for a fight to erupt.

“Maa, Iruka-sensei, why would you think that?” Kakashi’s eye went up into a perfect crescent while he rubbed the back of his hair, hiding the report he had planned to turn in behind his back. Interrupting Iruka was an infraction of itself, and yet, Kakashi did this often. His report was indeed covered in mud and missing some information. Probably. He had let Naruto write it. He always let Naruto write it, that was his secret.

Instead of answering that ridiculous question, because  _ really!  _ Iruka thrust his hand out and gestured,  _ hand it over. _

Kakashi shook his head and shrugged,  _ what report? _

Iruka’s eyes narrowed, hand still stretched out as he pointed,  _ the one behind your back you idiot! _

There was no saving face here. Kakashi approached the desk with the caution you gave a wild animal, keeping an eye on where Iruka’s hands were at at all times. He produced the report, sliding it across the table and leaving a mud and wet streak as he did so.

“This...” Iruka started, jaw clenched and teeth in a hard line. He rubbed at his scar, eyes briefly closing while he took a deep breath. How many more times would he have to lecture Kakashi on handing in clean reports, fully filled out to expectation? Iruka had stopped counting a few years ago. They went through this weekly, daily, monthly, whenever Kakashi had a report to turn in. He would arrive right before Iruka went home, giving him some disgusting piece of paper, then sit in the corner on the couch that was provided for all, reading his ridiculous  _ Icha Icha _ books. Iruka hated them. He hated knowing Kakashi was never actually reading them; instead he was always watching Iruka over the top of the pages, ducking down when their eyes would meet with a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it blush appearing over the edges of his mask.

Nevertheless, the incoming onslaught was on the tip of his tongue. Nothing would save Kakashi from his wrath today. “This is...” Iruka opened his eyes, taking in a deep breath and---!

Kakashi was gone. There was an leaf floating in the space he would have been, waving  _ hello! _ to Iruka as it floated down to the ground. His deskmates were all looking at him, there was no one left in the room except them.

Frozen in place watching Iruka’s rage bubble at the now missing jōnin, the other three all recounted to watching Kakashi as he took  large steps backwards when Iruka’s eyes closed and whisked himself to safety---through the supply closet door, opening and shutting it without so much as a whisper of sound. Each independently wondered a little why the jōnin had changed his usual antics with fleeing----normally he would stick it out, hang around, badgering Iruka for a few hours. While it was highly amusing to see him get berated and then sit in the corner pouting (was this a kink thing? Aoba asked once after covering one of the shifts in there with them and it had gotten some heads turning) they all exchanged glances, eyebrows wiggling up and down, side to side, a silent conversation that led to Kotetsu’s confusion and Izumo shooting him a pained expression of love.

(There was a running set of bets on whether or not Iruka would kill Kakashi before Aoba had offered his commentary. New bets had been placed on whether or not Iruka and Kakashi were actually more than enemies, with Gai claiming his Eternal Rival had found True Love But Was Too Shy To Tell The World, Ibiki betting that Iruka would murder Kakashi in a manner more horrific than anything T&I could do while Anko, Genma and Raidou all placed them on Kakashi being too awkward to do anything and pined from afar; Kurenai and Asuma had exchanged secretive looks and backed up Gai’s bet. Tsunade had walked in the room just in time for that one and was prepared to jump in before Shizune whisked her away and barred them all from letting her partake. Tsunade still tried but Genma had passed her bet back to Shizune and thus kept their pool safe from the Hokage’s terrible luck.)

Getting ready for the next round of Iruka’s Wrath, Izumo ear-muffed Kotetsu and steeled his nerves in in preparation for a sound that did not come.

Iruka didn’t bubble over, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he huffed a noise of defeat,  taking the mud-coated report by it’s corner and throwing it in the trash bin where it belonged. “I’m going home.” 

Soon as Iruka’s back disappeared around the corner, gone for the day officially, the remaining three sighed loudly and the door to the supply closet opened. Kakashi slipped out, dropped a  _ clean _ report that  _ he  _ had written on the desk near the other to have it processed. “Do you think he’s mad?”

“I have never seen him throw away a report,” Izumo offered, wiping his hands off on his partner’s sleeve. “Ugh, ‘Tetsu, how much hair gel do you use? ...Nevermind, I don’t want to know... Iruka’s pretty mad at you, Kakashi, I don’t know what you did but...”

“...but I would probably avoid him, quiet Iruka is as scary as it can get,” Kotetsu finished. He pointedly ignored Izumo’s remark about his hair,  _ which is fabulous _ , don’t you dare insult it!

“Quiet Iruka is about the same as waking a demon,” Genma offered, leaning back in his chair. The trademark senbon on his lip wiggled around as he contemplated the last few seconds of events and the attitude Iruka had brought in with him. Seeing Iruka angry wasn’t unusual, but seeing Kakashi hide like that was. Things would need to be assessed, bets redrawn. He would call a meeting down at the Jōnin Standby Station in a few days and present the evidence then.

With a shrug Kakashi acknowledged Genma’s opinion; he wasn’t wrong. “Iruka-sensei gets so cute when he’s mad,” he stated, punctuating it another shrug and then Kakashi was out, a leaf left behind, waving goodbye to the group for him as they stared at the space he had just been in with mild shock.

Izumo scrambled for the notebook he kept in his weapon’s pouch, pulling it out alongside a pencil and flipped frantically to the page with the latest round of betting and jotting down notes of the entire transaction. 


	2. Dry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just going to drop this here: i have not written smut in so goddamn long that this was like a walk down pervy lane. also, as i do not have a beta, this was proofed by me, poorly, so if you find something weird, let me know.

 

Kakashi met Iruka at the door, opening it from inside before the sensei had a finger lifted to start undoing his wards. The sight he was greeted with rivaled the worst demon: Iruka was soaked, his satchel dripping on the ground. Mud had caked to the bottoms of his sandals and grit clung to Iruka’s toes. His face wore an expression of exhaustion and anger, which swiftly softened to just exhaustion as Kakashi reached out to pull him in to the warmth of home. 

An old, faded shuriken patterned furoshiki had already been laid out for Iruka’s sandals, which he toed off immediately, grimacing at the feel of grit between his toes. He didn’t have to move much as Kakashi knelt down and tied the cloth up, pushing his shoes aside to be dealt with later.

Iruka’s soaked satchel was taken and, with scary accuracy even for Kakashi, thrown behind and into the kitchen sink with a hard thunk. Whatever papers he had in there, well, his students were getting a pass on, it was only fair. Iruka touched the soft pillow of Kakashi’s silver hair as it moved around while deft undid the bandages on Iruka’s thigh, removing his weapons and with less scary accuracy chucked to the kotatsu behind them. Iruka would never not be impressed by that, giving Kakashi a worn but warm smile, making his lover hum with delight. 

Iruka couldn’t complain when Kakashi undid the buttons on his vest either, taking it off his sagging shoulders in one fell swoop. He did not throw the vest, it’s rightful place was on a hook next to their heads and so there it hung to dry, right next to Kakashi’s. The tie holding up Iruka’s sad ponytail was released and, he could see looking down, tucked into Kakashi’s pocket. This caused his hai-iate slid off his head, Kakashi catching it before it could thunk Iruka in the chest. Fingers worked to undo the knot, then tucked the metal protector into a pocket on Iruka’s vest for safe keeping. Those were oddly difficult to replace, and your first one was always the most memorial. Losing it, even in Konoha’s smallest apartment, would still upset Iruka and Kakashi had done enough of that today. 

A towel was produced from  _ somewhere _ , Iruka always marveled at how Kakashi could seemingly pull things from thin air. His eyes looked to see if maybe this time he was using a shadow clone to hand him off things when the blue fluffy, and  _ warm _ , towel was dropped over his head, cutting off his vision.

This may be the best part, Iruka thought to himself, closing his eyes and releasing a breath he hadn’t know he was holding. Kakashi’s dexterity in his hands came into play too often for them, this time as he rubbed and caressed the other’s head, cradling it in his hands as the towel was worked over, soaking up as much of the cold wetness as it could. This was how Kakashi brought Iruka back down from his angry place, though he would never admit where he learned it.

(Once, Kakashi read that if you put a towel over an angry wild animal’s head, it would calm down. He tried it on Iruka one day and it worked. Kakashi returned to reading the book. It told him that when animals are frightened then you were to make soft murmuring noises, or shushing noises while stroking it. A week after Kakashi had learned this trick he came home to a distraught Iruka, worried that Kakashi had been critically injured this time as the mission took four days longer than the two it was supposed to, and it had been an S-rank which meant Iruka was left without any information except the time he should have been gone for. As he held a sobbing Iruka to his chest, Kakashi stroked his hair and made those soft murmuring noises that the book described, eventually lulling Iruka into sleep. Back to the book he went. This time he learned that if you move slowly, and keep your hands in view, then the animal wouldn’t attack you, or lash out with suspicion. Iruka had come home that next day seething from something someone or other had done somehow someway, ready to throw sharp objects. Kakashi approached slowly, hands in the air, while Iruka snarled and yelled at him for looking so dumb, how  _ dare _ he, and  _ oh _ , those touches quieted down immediately as the petting and murmuring began. A combination of all the tricks had only ever come into play twice, and it may have been from something Kakashi had set up to happen so he could prove to himself that it actually worked, and once when he knew Guy had been approaching them from far away to get him to stop, but to also show his friend his cute boyfriend while being an absolute cabbage about discussing it with his Eternal Rival.)

Iruka’s breaths slowed down as he continued to fall into Kakashi’s chest more and more, completely blank and skin coming to life with warmth, the little rubs and pulls on his head becoming so much more. He knew if he made noise that Kakashi would stop, so he bit his lip and shut down the moans that dared defy his demands. This was how Iruka knew he could control the situation, though he would never explain how he found that out.

(It was simple: Iruka realized Kakashi was intentionally egging him on, but when he realized how good his head massages were Iruka gave in to the game and let the other get him riled up. When he relaxed and made noise, Kakashi would stop, assuming Iruka was calmer. So, if he held out, and remained silent, Kakashi wouldn’t stop until Iruka was ready for him to, and that usually only happened when he would go comply limp, his mind would slip into the black ether of desire, nerves on fire from head to toe with a curling warmth. Only then would he let it stop so he could be pulled back to reality. He would never explain that to Kakashi.)

Under his hands Kakashi could feel Iruka growing more and more relaxed as he supported him more each moment. How desperately he wanted to put his head under that towel with Iruka, to see how soft his face goes when he gets this relaxed, watch as Iruka’s pupils would get wider until they were blown out, blocking out the golden flecks that he normally enjoyed staring at. Kakashi know Iruka was biting his lip to keep himself quiet, he would see the dent on his lower lip later before Kakashi sunk his own teeth into it.

Kakashi’s greatest desire was to see under that towel as he completely worked Iruka undone, to marvel in his own greatest achievements’ falling apart with lust. Iruka’s hands rose to wrap themselves around Kakashi’s torso, holding tightly.

( _ Of course _ he knew Iruka held his voice down. This was Kakashi of the Sharingan, Iruka,  _ of course _ he knew exactly what the other’s body was doing. But he would still never admit that this was his greatest desire and so they would play these silly games forever.)

Just before Kakashi’s arms could get tired he heard the tiniest moan escape Iruka’s mouth, his sign that this should stop now, before Iruka sunk any further into his blank space. Chuckling, Kakashi pulled the towel back over Iruka’s head, hanging it around his neck, pulling Iruka’s chin up to tip his head back and just watched him smile, waking up from a warm reverie. Arms released themselves from Kakashi’s torso and wrapped themselves loosely around his shoulders, letting Kakashi finally hold the other in his arms, momentarily blocking out the fact that Iruka’s shirt was still soaked, and his pants too.  

Even though they had been doing this for too long, too long to stay secretive at least, Kakashi still wore his mask indoors, tucked up over his nose. While originally it was because of habit, and Iruka eventually did get to see his face, it turned into something a little more. Like now, as Iruka moved his hands to tuck his (cold!) fingers under the edges of the mask, pulling it down slowly, enjoying the way Iruka’s would still always look away when he did so and then back when it was down, as if the reveal was too much in itself to witness, but the painting he was able to see after made up for it.

He  _ lived _ for this moment, Kakashi knew, because now it meant Iruka was home for the night and they could turn off the bickering they put on for the outside world and truly enjoy each other’s presence. 

“Hi,” Iruka breathed out, letting the lip he had still be holding go. Kakashi saw the little tooth marks and smiled. 

“Are you still mad I gave you a muddy report?” he knew he wasn’t, but Kakashi still needed to know. As he asked he started walking backwards, Iruka taking hint and grasped both of Kakashi’s shoulders tightly and jumped  _ up _ , hands around his waist moving faster than any eye could see to catch him under his thighs and held fast. Iruka hooked his feet together over the small of Kakashi’s back and let him be carried from the genkan to the tiniest bathroom in Konoha, barely big enough for the white porcelain ofuro and yet still somehow a toilet fit in there.

“No,” Iruka shook his head, hair whipping Kakashi in the face a little. “Though I’ll have you know, the bets on us have gone up.”

“Oh?” This was news to Kakashi (not really). He grinned, showing Iruka a warm smile full of perfect teeth, nothing like the rumors his students threw around. This was a smile only Iruka could see. “Should we get someone to place some for us? I’m sure Tenzo would be  _ thrilled _ .”

Iruka shook his head again and gave his own laugh, “no, let’s not subject him to anything you want to do, he’s already been through enough just knowing you.”

“Hey!” Taking false offense Kakashi pretended to drop Iruka, making him squawk before lowering him down to sit on the closed toilet lid. “Take off your shirt and pants, you’re still soaked,” Kakashi reminded him, tugging at the collar of Iruka’s blue long sleeve. With help they both had it off and tossed into the hallway, Iruka working to get his pants off while Kakashi turned to the tub, checking the temperature to make sure the water wouldn’t cook his Iruka into a soup.

Nothing was said as Iruka slipped into the ofuro, sinking down until he was submerged to his shoulders. Kakashi grinned and sat down next to the tub, leaning against it so that their heads were equal height. His eye quirked into that crescent to show he was smiling (even though Iruka could still see that smile, the eye movement was automatic), asking, “are you warmer now?”

Iruka could only nod that yes, he was, taking the moment to close his eyes, letting the annoyances from the day float off his body and take the warmth that was this moment in to replace it all. Kakashi tapped his forehead to let him know he was stepping away, their own way to communicate when sound was too big, too loud for their time together. Quietness was a thing for them. One needed it to wind down from a very loud day full of very deafening children and people, and the other flourished in the quiet, relied on it for everything they did. A home where communication did not need to involve the use of sound was key for the both of them.

When Iruka reappeared, skin pinked from the heat, he found that the kotatsu held a bowl of ramen and his favorite cinnamon tea. Iruka tucked in to the table, throwing his arms up in the air above him. 

Behind him Kakashi laughed, a deep sound of amusement, but did as Iruka wanted: rolled his sleeves up to his elbows so he could eat his food without dragging clothing through it. The weight of the sofa behind Iruka changed, he felt it dip against his back as Kakashi settled down, legs boxing the other in. Roughened hands carded through his hair, delicately untangling knots as Iruka . 

Like all the times before, the feel of having his hair played with, lightly tugged, wrapped up into a top knot, it lasted just not a moment too long, but not quite long enough. Kakashi would leave Iruka feeling fuzzy and  _ sunset yellow _ if an emotion could have a color, dangerously close to the precipice of being present and being  _ gone _ .  

Those fingers tugged on his hair again; he knew it was asking if he was done, and he was. The tug on his shoulder was asking if he would sit on the sofa, and he would. Kakashi picked and pulled at his body, trading places, caging himself between Iruka’s legs. 

Heat and fire shown in his eye, seeking permission, smiling when he found it. Fingers slid their way up his soft and worn sweatpants, squeezing thighs gently. Iruka smiled and tipped his head back against the cushions, lifting his hips, skin tickled by the slow pull of cloth. He let a moan fly loose when the intoxicating heat that was his lover’s mouth closed over his semi-soft cock, hollowing out his cheeks and  _ sucking _ .

Carding fingers through thick silver locks, Iruka struggled to keep from rolling his hips up each time he felt Kakashi’s mouth take him in, struggled to keep the groans threatening to escape when he felt teeth drag along and catch on the corona.

Iruka hissed and snapped his hips up, chasing a retreating tongue.

Fingers dug into his hips and pinned him down, unwavering control as Iruka reeled from the shock of how cold the room was on his too-wet and too-sensitive dick.

“ _ Kakashi _ ,” he whined, still holding fistfulls of silver, tugging and trying to pull that succulent mouth back but only finding resistance. 

“You yelled at me today,” Kakashi whined, fingernails cutting hard crescents into Iruka’s tanned skin, leaving marks for another day. He was pouting, putting on a show. Ghosting kisses over the tip and down the length of Iruka’s cock, he took a pause to lap up the pre-cum that dared to dribble out the slit.

It registered Iruka to a state of neediness and want, right where Kakashi needed him to be.

“Please,” Iruka practically moaned the word, hands moving out of Kakashi’s hair to wrap fists into the hem of his own shirt. Thighs flexed and Kakashi could see Iruka struggling with self-control, trying to keep himself as still as he should be---as still as Kakashi sometimes wanted, needed him to be. “I’m  _ sorry _ , I’m sorry,  _ please _ , it-it-it was a hard--- _ nngh!” _

Reducing the other to sounds, Kakashi paused to tease the delicate underside of Iruka’s cock with kitten licks. The incoherent babbling and run-on’s on ‘I’m sorry!’ fueled his teasing.

Kakakshi stopped his ministrations completely, sitting back on his heels. Calloused hands moved from hips to thighs, rubbing long lines into Iruka’s muscles, watching with warm enjoyment at how flushed he had become.

“Iruka-sensei~ is cute when he’s angry...” Kakashi locked eyes with Iruka, drinking in the desire and lust that burned so hotly behind honey flaked brown. Iruka was intoxicating and Kakashi the addict. 

Lust and desire turned to fire and fury as his words sunk in for Iruka. When Kakashi saw the change light up his eyes he ducked his head back down, grasping and holding fast Iruka’s cock as he slid his mouth down to take him in fully. The hairs at the base tickled his nose, flooding his olfactory with the heady scent of something citrus and warm and all too much. He groaned around the fullness in his mouth, flexing the muscles in the back of his throat, choking on it.

Iruka watched as Kakashi sputtered, pulling back to leave him slick, almost  _ glistening _ with saliva. Desire reared past the flashes of anger that the other had brought up to the surface. Watching Kakashi choke on him, watching saliva drip down his cock. A strand still connected the tip to a red, full bottom lip had Iruka moaning. Kakashi wiped his thumb across his own bottom lip, collecting that mix of sticky fluid onto his finger pad. He held it out to Iruka, who was licking his own lips as he learned forward to take Kakashi’s thumb between teeth.

Thumb hooked over Iruka’s bottom teeth and pulled him closer, Kakashi leaning in until their noses almost touched. “Will there ever be a day when I  _ don’t _ get yelled at?” 

A saltiness was left behind on his lips when Kakashi pulled his finger back out, resting his whole hand just under the curvature of his jaw. Iruka swallowed out of instinct, felt the light pressure around him when he did.

His face broke out into a sharp grin, challenging Kakashi. “Maybe when a specific shinobi sto- _ ah- _ ps,” he paused to drag in a sharp breath against the mounting pressure, a familiar lightheadedness threatening to take over. Spots swam in his periphery and it felt  _ golden _ . “Stops bringing me piece of shit re- _ re _ ,  _ fuck _ , reports,” he sputtered out, eyes closing tightly. 

The blood thumped in his head, fuzzy spots danced behind his closed eyes. Iruka smiled and opened his eyes wide and unwavering in the mirth that betrayed Iruka’s angry facade. 

“Well if that’s how you feel...” Kakashi trailed off, pulling himself back and away from Iruka. There were dishes that needed washing, sleep to be had... there were other things. 

“No, no, wait, Kaka _ shi! _ ” Iruka flung himself over the back of the couch to watch Kakashi’s retreating figure into the kitchen, confusion killing his arousal, blood spiked with fear. 

There was only one thing he knew the other wanted, had been dropping hints and clues for months now. Iruka squirmed and laid back into the corner, drawing his bare knees up to his chest. “Fine,” he huffed, listening as the sounds in the kitchen ceased. Rain drops pounding filled up the space once again, broken only by Iruka’s ragged sigh. “You know it terrifies me and there’s so much more... we can go to the Hokage and,  _ wow _ , that was fast!” he laughed, finding himself tugged, turned, and moved with a very happy Kakashi straddling his hips before he could finish his sentence, found warm hands cupping the sides of his face. Iruka laughed again, warm and happy, absorbing the image of a golden smiled Kakashi above him, eye curved up into that perfect crescent smile. “ _ Then _ will you stop giving me shitty reports?”

Kakashi nodded a ‘yes,’ a lie if they both knew it.

(Once, someone told Kakashi that if you withheld something your animal wanted, like food, then they would listen to you more during training. A hunger would take over, a drive to get that which they desired. A much more pervy person told him to exchange food for sex.)

Iruka’s response was absorbed into a kiss, Kakashi’s lips cutting off sound. They fell into each other, Kakashi opening up Iruka’s mouth under him with bruising kisses. Teeth nipped at his lips, pulling and biting until Iruka gave in with a moan, the slide of hot tongue against his lighting the fire in his belly again.

Above him, Kakashi rolled his hips down against Iruka’s growing length, pushing down and grinding it against his own. Iruka’s eyes fluttered open with a gasp when long fingers wrapped back around him, tugging from base to head, a slow and pleasingly torturous drag. A wrist flicked and Iruka’s cock jumped in Kakashi’s hand. 

“Like this?” Kakashi purred, kissing his way cross the scar on Iruka’s nose, dipping down to catch an earlobe between sharp teeth. Iruka shook his head, reaching out to find Kakashi’s other hand, pulling it close and pushing it against his neck. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that a wolfish grin was staring back at him. Fingers flexed on his neck and applied even pressure on both sides.

Iruka nodded,  _ just like this _ , hearing a sound of approval in return. The weight on his body shifted and moved as Kakashi slid of Iruka’s lap to knee between Iruka’s knees. Rough hands pushed them wide, hooking under his knees to bring Iruka a little closer to the sofa edge. He let himself be rearranged, melting into the cushions when he felt that hand on his neck return.

It squeezed off the moan that tried to burst through, body singing as Kakashi cupped his balls, rolling them gently between his fingers. His cock, left neglected, twitched and jumped, coming to rest against a silky smooth cheek that rubbed against it like a cat, an occasionally flick of a tongue if he pressed closer to Kakashi’s lips.

Kakashi’s amused humming reverberated up his dick and through his body, striking his toes and fingers and everything with the heat of explosion. Iruka  _ laughed _ at the feeling, head tipping back in bliss. 

  
Hands made him hold fast, the one on his neck still perfect, still with the right pressure, pinned him into the sofa, letting go when he knew he needed to, tightening back up before Iruka could make noise. Trapped groans only made him harder, made him want to strain up into that deliriously delicious mouth. Iruka’s fingers twitched from their grasp on his shirt again as Kakashi rolled the flat of his tongue down the underside of his cock, cheeks hollowing out again to create a tight, warm hold, before he loosened and was back down, nose pressing against flesh again before dragging back off.

Lips sucked and pulled at the tip, sucking Iruka out with hunger. It was fast, it was heavy with pressure. The digit pressing against his perineum made him shudder as it stroked with heavy gentleness that small spanse of tissue, teasing Iruka when he brushed up against the tight cluster of nerves and feeling him clench down on the pad that threatened to push into him.

Oh how Iruka wanted to grind down on that finger. Knew if he did he could maybe get it in him, get  _ Kakashi _ inside him. 

He wanted it, he wanted Kakashi. Desire bubbled and filled his veins with it’s hot-white light, spinning his head around with a dizziness. The hand around his cock stopped, replaced with the heat of a mouth. Kakashi sucked until he was filthy wet again, spit dripping when he took him between fingers again. A thumb brushed over the sensitive tip on each flick up, twisting the muscle with such a tightness that for anyone else it would be too much.

Iruka loved Kakashi for that.

The hand on his neck, the pressure of being held down, sucked and tugged and licked and teased until he was a coiled wreck, waiting to explode. He gasped a warning, whimpering as Kakashi tightened his hold and thrust Iruka down his throat, sputtering,  _ choking _ on Iruka’s cock.

With a cry, Iruka came, cock sputtering hot and heavy down the back of Kakashi’s throat, feeling himself milked to completion. A soft  _ pop!  _ sounded when he felt himself be released, spent dick still heavy and twitching with lust as fell back to rest against Iruka.

Iruka dared open his eyes again, focusing on Kakashi’s face as he licked his bottom lip clean, licked his fingers clean. There was a fuzziness in his body now, exhaustion was setting in. He knew that he would have to talk to Tsunade tomorrow, or the day after. When before he was terrified to bring their relationship to the public, seeing the golden smile that Kakashi had worn when he agreed earlier, just now, erased all that. Iruka tucked his head into Kakashi’s neck as he felt himself be carried from couch to bed. Blankets were piled around him, and once the bright lights when out and cast them into darkness, he felt the familiar weight of his lover slide into bed next to him.

They shuffled until they had it right, Kakashi curling around Iruka, fingers wrapped around bare hips and fisted in a shirt. 

Kakashi pushed his nose against Iruka’s neck, nudging him until he knew Iruka was a little more aware. “I’m sorry I kept you awake all night,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “I hope you didn’t mind though.” Iruka’s head shook under him,  _ no _ , a shrug of shoulders dismissed the apology. 

Yet still... “I promise I won’t do it again tonight,” the tickle of fingers on Iruka’s hip said that could be a lie. Iruka shook his head, grunting a displeased sound. 

“Maybe tomorrow night, then.”


End file.
